


Every Step You Take

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst (Kind of), Everyone is roomates, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Other, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, almost everyone is gay, full homo, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> A soulmate AU in which your everybody gets a step-counter. For each step they take, the number on the counter goes down, marking the moment they meet their soulmate. </em> or The Soulmate AU no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Join me, on a journey of soulmates and obscure ships. This was inspired by a prompt on tumblr. If I don't make it clear, the concept of a "counter" is shown in the work as a physical object, somewhat like a watch. I apologize for my crappy attempts at serious writing.

As a child, Alexander didn't know what the numbers meant. Days to live? Chances to take? Words to speak? All he knew was there was a lot of them. He asks one night, an eight year old snuggled into his mothers chest.  
"What do the numbers mean, Mama?" he had asked quietly.  
Alexander breathed in the silence before she quietly responded,"It's the number of how many steps you take until you meet your soulmate."  
"What's a soulmate?"  
"The person who loves you most in the world."  
"Oh." Alex had said simply. Several minutes passed before he asked, "So your number is zero now?"  
Alex doesn't understand why his mother remains silent. He simply huddles closer to her. 

He figures it out when he's ten.

His mother is in the hospital when he finds her counter, two years later. There are hundreds of thousands of steps still on it, ticking down each moment. Years. Suddenly, the numbers stop dropping. Alex's gut twist with dread.  
The phone starts ringing.

He doesn't pay attention to his counter after that. How can he? _There's too much work to do._ He pays no mind to the children running in circles to take their numbers down or to the people kissing complete strangers in public. All that matters is getting out. He begins to write like he's running out of time. And he writes his way out.

Six years pass before he finds himself in the heart of Manhattan. He doesn't stop working; never stops writing. His first month of university flies by in a blur of classes, coffee breaks, and sleepless nights. He doesn't notice exactly how much his numbers have gone down until his roommate points it out. It's late at night and Lafayette leans over to stare at Alex's watch, looking back up with a smirk.  
"You excited?" Laf asks in a sing-song tone.  
Alex looks up from his laptop, scowling slightly. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
Mocking offense, Laf pouts. "C'mon, Alex, haven't you seen your count? It's looking awfully low." They extend the counter to Alex.  
Alex picks it up gingerly, as if it'll fall apart if he touches it wrong. He gently turns it over in his hand, staring down at the watch, now reading 5,000. _Less than a day!_  
Alex lets out a little gasp, despite himself. "That's definitely..." he pauses, contemplating. "Unexpected." Lafayette chuckles knowingly and winks at him.  
"Get to sleep, Alexander. It seems like you've got a big day tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John can't wait to meet his soulmate. All his life, he's been told that the day he meets _"The One"_ will be the happiest day of his life. And he can't imagine otherwise. He keeps an eye on his counter, does everything he can to take away his steps. And yet, he can't help but be a bit afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I'm really not good at writing lengthy chapters. I hope you enjoy, though.

A jolt goes through him every time his heel clicks on the sidewalks. Each time he hears the South Carolina earth moving under his feet. Even in the middle of the night, the scratch of his slippers on the hardwood floor excites him beyond words.  
John can't wait to meet his soulmate. All his life, he's been told that the day he meets _"The One"_ will be the happiest day of his life. And he can't imagine otherwise. He keeps an eye on his counter, does everything he can to take away his steps. And yet, he can't help but be a bit afraid.  
For one thing, he's afraid of getting what he wants. as a teenager, he admits to himself that yes, he'd only ever want to be with a man. He knows full well that his father would never approve of his being gay. But he dares to hope that even without his father's approval, he could be happy. But still, he's afraid.  
John fears that maybe, just maybe, his father is right in his disapproval. Perhaps his soulmate will be a woman. If that's the case, he decides, he'll never be happy.  
He stays in this constant state of fear for most of his teen years. He keeps his eyes on his counter and prays his father is wrong. And, when the chance to attend Columbia arises, he jumps on it. All through the plane ride, he keeps an anxious eye on his steps, feeling comforted at how rapidly the numbers drop.  
John pays more attention to it than ever over the next month. As he walks to each class, he watches the moments until he finds his soulmate fly by. Day by day, he waits for his life to begin.

He's ecstatic when his counter hits five thousand. He stays up late that night, barely able to sleep. After his fifth bathroom break, he comes back to find his roomate sitting up in bed with his arms crossed.  
"You really are big on this whole soulmate thing, aren't you? " Aaron asks calmly, his rich voice filling the room. John nods.  
"Yeah." John replies simply. He flops onto his bed and slouches against the headboard. "Man, all I want is someone who's gonna love me for who I am, you know? Kinda like what you and Theo have."  
He hears Aaron's smile in his voice. "Well, hopefully your relationship will be a bit easier. Try not to go breaking up any engagements like I did, huh?"  
John plays with his counter in his hand and nods. With a chuckle, he replies, "I'll try." He lays back onto his pillow. The moment the light goes out, he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys like this! Thanks for reading, I'll try to update soon!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is paying attention. John isn't. It's a bit of a role, reversal, really. John is concentrating on the little watch in his hand, the number on it growing lower by the second. Alexander is caught up in his own thoughts, still keeping an eye out for anyone in his path. What he doesn't see, however, is the young man absentmindedly ambling up behind him. He notices him soon enough, though; in fact, he'd say it’s the exact moment that the guy collides with his backside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah okay so this is just real damn short and the title is so stupid but I just had to update before I start a new story! I hope it's okay tho.

Alex is paying attention. John isn't. It's a bit of a role, reversal, really. John is concentrating on the little watch in his hand, the number on it growing lower by the second. Alexander is caught up in his own thoughts, still keeping an eye out for anyone in his path. What he doesn't see, however, is the young man absentmindedly ambling up behind him. He notices him soon enough, though; in fact, he'd say it’s the exact moment that the guy collides with his backside.  


The taller man goes tumbling over him, falling to the ground and dropping a little gold watch in the process. Alex watches curiously as he regains his senses, takes note of how the young man fumbles for his watch desperately, as though his very life depends on it. Then it clicks. Alex whips out his own counter.  


_0 ___

He can't help the gentle blush that spreads over his cheeks as he extends a hand to the other man. _Your soulmate!_ his brain interjects, and he shakes his head to clear it up. The other guy looks up at him and- _Jesus, he's cute_. His light brown skin is dotted all over with freckles, and his face seems to light up around a pair of sparkling hazel eyes. Those eyes regard Alex for a moment, before he takes his hand, a lighthearted smile playing over his lips. The boy stood to his full height,and Alex allowed himself to rake his eyes over his (frankly georgeous, he feels like adding) body. He’s only a few inches taller than Alexander himself, and couldn’t be much younger. The young man brushes off his jeans and nods cordually. 

“Oh, dude, I’m so sorry, are you-” His smooth voice trails off and he blushes, examining Alex’s features. He extends a hand. “Hi. I’m John Laurens.”  
“Alexander Hamilton.” He takes John’s hand and shakes it firmly, giving it a gentle squeeze and smiling gently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, John.”  
John flashes him a grin and shifts back and forth before nodding in the other direction. “I guess I better be…” Alex nods, humming in agreement. John turns and walks on, his smile still fixed on his face. He fishes his watch out of his pocket and checks the steps. 

_0_

From down the hallway, Alexander sees him halt, dead in his tracks. He hears his heavy inhale, and he can almost sense the gears turning in his brain. John pivots in his spot, curls bouncing as he jerks his head to stare at Alexander. Alex simply stares back. For once in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.  
“Alexander, wasn’t it?” John asks with eyes the size of saucers. Alex nods. “Well, Alexander…”  
John trails off for the umpteenth time, fidgeting nervously. He leans against the wall in an attempt to feign nonchalance, almost slipping down in the process. Alex snickers. “Are you free Friday night?”  
Alexander grins and nods, cursing the words that won’t come. Perhaps he’s too nervous. Perhaps it’s the shock of finding something he didn’t think he’d care so much about. His mind, ever unhelpful, reminds him of a song lyric from that old musical his friend Hercules had made him watch: _You loved him so you couldn’t even speak!_ Mentally, he batted away the thought. He wasn't a romantic, usually. And he was certainly not Judy Garland. He’d met the guy two minutes ago for God’s sake! Still, he couldn’t help the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.  
“It’s a date.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'd make me really happy if you commented! If you don't, that's fine, too!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short and is nothing but pure, top-of-the-line toothrotting fluff (and a little bit of sexual tension). Enjoy!

He's not usually this jumpy. Sure, he might be on high alert some of the time, but it's never like this. Now, he's on edge at every sound, every muffled conversation, every shuffle of feet in the hallway. He's waiting for the knock on his door, and he's beginning to think it'll never come. His mind races, churning out possible reasons for why the young man hasn't shown up yet.

_Maybe he doesn't like you. Who would? You spent two minutes with him and you can still tell he's out of your league. He probably realized you have nothing to offer him. I mean, you're not even that cute. He's figured out by now that he's too good-_

A series of tentative knocks cuts through Alex's thoughts, which he is only too happy to dismiss. He takes a steadying breath and opens the door, revealing a nervous-looking John. He's dressed casually- plain white tee, navy cardigan, and denim skinny jeans- but Alexander thinks that, in that moment, John must be the most gorgeous person on the planet. The shorter man allows his eyes to wander over John's body for a minute, taking in the sight. His hair is loose, falling to his shoulders in wavy curls. The low crew-neckline on his shirt shows a small expanse of freckle-spotted skin, and those light blue skinny jeans leave just enough to the imagination. Alexander internally scolded himself for that last thought- after all, who wants to be the one weirdo who gets pervy with their coffee date? Caught up in his embarrassment, he doesn't catch John's eyes scanning his body with curiosity, and the barest trace of hunger.

"You look great, Alexander." Alex jumps a bit, surprised at the sound of John's voice. In a rare bout of romanticism, he finds himself enthralled in the smooth baritone. Alex blushes and and stares down to examine his clothing choice- beige chinos and his favorite grey sweater, pulled over whatever shirt he pulled out of the laundry basket this morning. He looks back up at the boy and gives a broad smile, feeling like he may drop dead when John flashes a dazzling grin back at him. For what seems like the umpteenth time since he met him, Alexander has trouble finding the words. He takes a few moments to think about what he could say to John; somehow, he thinks, " _Nice Freckles!_ " or _"Anyone ever tell you you look like Will Smith as an animated fish?"_ might not be the most charming compliments.

"Well, you look, um, breathtaking." _Breathtaking? Jesus, there is no way you just said that._ John doesn't seem bothered, however, and offers Alexander his arm. The latter took it happily, and they together left the apartment. Not a minute later, the small talk begins.

"So, Mister Laurens, where are you taking me today?" Alexander asked in a mockingly sweet Southern Belle voice, batting his eyelashes at John. His date caught the joke and puffed out his chest and donned his own Southern drawl.

"Why, darlin'," John paused to listen to Alex's lively giggle (later, Alexander would deny even being able to giggle) before continuing, "There's this quaint lil' coffee shop just down our street, and I thought it was high time we came a-calling!" By the time the sentence was finished, he was struggling not to laugh- unlike Alex, who was currently doubled over and cackling like a witch. When John spoke again, it was light with laughter, his actual accent swept surely under the rug. "Basically, we're going to Starbucks."

Alex grins and, in a flash of boldness, grabs John's hand, allowing their fingers to intertwine.

"Lead the way, then, my dear Laurens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, keep an eye out for updates, and commenting would really make my day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an evil bitch.

_**From: Bae <3**_ _Jooooooooooooohn I need your help Herc is trying to make me watch Meet Me in St Louis again,,,,,,,,,,,,_

John stared down at the text and snorted. In the five months they'd been dating, he'd gotten at least seven texts from Alex insisting that there would be consequences if John didn't come save him from Hercules' favorite movie. Of course, rescuing Alex from his own dorm meant he had to spend the night at John's, so he wasn't necessarily complaining.

 _ **To: Bae <3**_ _I've seen the movie, it's good. Can't you at least sit through it?_

 _ **From: Bae <3**_ _Oh, absolutely not._

_**To: Bae <3**_ _Alright fine, I'm omw_

Alexander smiled and put his phone down, laying flat on the bed and trying to drown out the sound of Lafayette attempting to rap _The Boy Next Door_. Lafayette and Hercules had met just before he had met them individually, and started dating not soon after. They were a cute couple, he had to admit- their domestic routine involved making each other cute clothes, watching _I Love Lucy_ on Sunday afternoons, and baking together. Alex picked his phone up and shot John a message.

_**To: My Dear Laurens** Honestly Herc and Laf are just #couplegoals_

_**From: My Dear Laurens** So are we tho_

_**To: My Dear Laurens** Tru, tru_

Then, _it_ arrives. 

_**From: My Dear Laurens** Remember that I love you, Alexander?_

Alexander sucks in a breath at the message. It's so sudden, so out of the blue. Then he smiles. _John Laurens loves him._ He sweeps away the question of why he couldn't wait 'til they were at his place to tell him. It doesn't matter. _What does matter,_ Alex thinks as he sets to work, _is telling this perfect babe that, yeah, I love him back_. He types for about five minutes, smiling like a madman the whole time.

_**To: My Dearest Laurens** John, my darling John, you have no idea how happy you've made me. I've love you, too. I've loved you since I met you, John. I adore everything you are and everything you've done for me. When you joke with me, and show me that you're not afraid to be yourself. When you kiss me so tenderly that I think I might melt. When you take me in your arms and speak softly to me after I've had a nightmare. You never seem to see me as a burden, and I can't love you enough for that. John, I hope you know that I'd do just about anything for you. If you asked, I'd take out of the sky and give them to you. And it's funny, because I'm supposed who uses words as my weapon, but here we are and you've left me rambling, looking for something, anything to say that will let you see even half of how much I love you. And I'll gladly spend every day of my life with you, if you'd allow it._

Almost as soon as he's sent the text, the three dots began to pulse, and Alex leaned forward a bit, eager for John's next message.

It never comes.

Instead, the bubble disappears and doesn't come back. Alex shrugs it off. He just has to formulate his thoughts. John does it all the time. It's a lot to take in, he supposes. It's only when ten minutes have passed without a response that he starts to get worried.

_**To: My Dearest Laurens** Hey, John, are you okay? Was that too much?_

It's another ten minutes later that his phone begins to ring, signalling a call from an unknown number. Normally, he'd let it ring out and forget about it, but in his nervousness, he picks it up and accepts the call.

"Hello? Is this Alexander Hamilton?" the voice on the other end asks. And Alex doesn't want to respond, he really doesn't. Because he knows that tone. He knows what type of news it brings.

"Yes, it is." His voice sounds hollow and sad, now, and he tells himself that _It's stupid, you don't even know who's calling_. But Hercules and Lafayette are staring at him now, so he tries to sound less blatantly afraid. "Who is this?" Then comes that question. He's heard it only once before, years and years ago. He must only have been twelve. He thought he'd react better this time. But now, hearing it again, he felt more like a scared child than ever.

"Are you sitting down?"

He drops the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried when I was writing this chapter.
> 
> My tumblr is @spookymormonhamdream so please come kick me in the kneecaps or something


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just adding chapters please stop me

The next two hours pass in a blur. 

Alexander sits for a moment or two after the call, pretending that nothing's happened, everything's okay, he'll be fine. Pretending that John is about to walk through the door. Pretending he can't feel Herc and Laf staring at him with concern in their gazes. And then that little voice in his head (and for once he's grateful for it) begins to yell at him. Something awful could have, probably _has_ happened, and he's just sitting on his ass, trying to spare his own feelings. Alex picks his phone back up gingerly, as if he thinks it'll bite him. He calls back, chewing nervously on his lip as he does so. When the caller picks back up, he launches immediately into a worried ramble.

"Hi, this is Alexander Hamilton, I'm sorry about hanging up, what's wrong? Is someone hurt? Is there somewhere I need to be? Oh my god, please tell me everything's okay, I-" His voice breaks before he finishes his sentence. With the last syllable, he begins to cry, sob after sob racking his body. By now, his friends are by his side, trying to calm him down. Lafayette sweeps his hair away from his face as Hercules gently questions Alex, who's too far gone at this point to respond. He at least tries to listen, however, when the woman on the other end of the phone speaks up. Her voice is soft and full and soothing, and Alex sucks in rattling breaths as he listens to her speaking.

"Hi, I- listen, I'm sorry, I don't quite know what to say, it's just that you were his emergency contact and thought I should call," she says, and Alex feels like crying again, but he knows he cant, knows he has to listen. "Are you his boyfriend, or?" And Alex realizes with a start that there's no reason to pretend that John's okay, because he knows for a _fact_ that no one else has him set as their emergency contact. And, from the way the woman on the other end is speaking, it sounds like it really is an emergency. 

"Yes, I am," Alex manages to choke out, and his mind flies immediately to the next problem. " What's happened? Where is he?"

The woman gives him a pair of street numbers, and he scrambles to write them down before her next sentence comes. "It was a drive-by. I've called 9-1-1, but I don't know when they're getting here."

And with that, he leaps up and grabs his jacket, knocks Lafayette off the bed in the process, bursts the door and hails a taxi. All the while, he cradles the phone to his chest.

-

He doesn't walk, he runs to the address he's been given, dread filling his gut as he gets closer. Finally, a crowd of gasping people indicates that he's arrived. Alex pushes them aside, almost wishing he could turn back when he sees John, his wonderful, beautiful John, laying on the ground with a pair of bullets in his chest and blood seeping from the wounds.

He's not sure how long he stands there, just staring as life seeps from his boyfriend, before he falls to his knees and begins to sob. He tunes out the world, tunes out the approaching sirens, tunes out the smell of blood and the feeling of someone's hands drawing soothing circles into his shoulders. It's only the feeling of a very different pair of hands, weakly brushing against his own, that brings him, quite reluctantly, back to reality.

"Alexander." The way he says it sounds so _pained_ , as if each syllable is another bullet in his chest, that Alexander quickly shushes him. He takes John's head and pulls it into his lap, gently brushing the thick, dark curls away from his face. John's eyes were open now, fresh tears leaking out and rolling down freckle-dusted cheeks. Alex can hear him struggling for breath, and begins a cycle of simultaneously cursing and begging every deity he can imagine. John's next words are soft, almost resigned. "Love you." Alex shakes his head softly and brushes away his own tears, hunching over to get closer to the other man. 

"Love you too, baby." John flinches and groans in pain, and Alex can only feel his heart breaking faster. "You're gonna be alright, got that? You know how I know?" John opens his eyes, and, despite his situation, manages to send his boyfriend a quizzical glance.

"How?"

Alexander grits his teeth and forces a smile. "You lost that bet last week, remember? I believe you owe me at least three solid fucks." He doesn't even remember what the bet was on, just wants to keep John awake and aware and _alive_ , damnit.

John's laugh comes out more as a pathetic sputter. He stares up at Alex, gasping for breath, and manages to say, "Miss me with that gay shit," before he passes out. Alexander wails like a child, whimpering as John disappears into an ambulance. Shakily, he stands up, and calls another taxi. He almost laughs at that. If only he'd taxi'd over to John's place, none of this would have happened.

Touché.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "John, please. I need you here with me," Alexander cried and stared pleadingly at his boyfriend, misery painted across his face. His hand tightened around John's, anchoring the other man to his side. There it was, the familiar tightening sensation in his chest. His heart felt like it was about to claw its way out of his chest. Above the din of his uneven breath and the increasingly loud ringing in his ears, Alex heard John's quiet exhale. "I need you here. You can't leave me here alone, John!" His voice cracked, and he pushed down the small sob rising in his throat. He whimpered quietly. "You told me you'd stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever! Anyway, you've waited this long, so enjoy!

"John, please. I need you here with me," Alexander cried as he stared pleadingly at his soulmate, misery painted across his face. His hand tightened around John's, anchoring the other man to his side. There it was, the familiar tightening sensation in his chest. His heart felt like it was about to claw its way out of his chest. Above the din of his uneven breath and the increasingly loud ringing in his ears, Alex heard his boyfriend's quiet exhale. "I need you here. You can't leave me here alone, John!" His voice cracked, and he pushed down to whine rising in his throat. He shut his eyes and whimpered quietly. "You told me you'd stay."

A steady hand on his hip brought him back to reality. "Baby girl, hey," John's gentle voice was like cool silk, soothing his frayed nerves. Alex turned to look back at his fiance, and the gentle smiling he was giving him as he returned his coat to rack. It was calming rather than condescending; Alexander felt himself relax a little. He let out a shaky breath and nuzzled into John's shoulder. "I guess I don't have to go anywhere tonight. I'll stay with you, baby, I promise."

Gradually, Alexander's breathing slowed and his shoulders fell lax. He wove his finger's into John's, felt the slide of the matching silver bands on their fingers, and sighed. Alex pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to his fiance's lips, winding his other hand skirted down his torso, resting on John's heart. He knew all to well that if he trailed his hand just a few inches to the right, he would find a pair of small, but present, faults in the skin, where the bullets had penetrated his fiance's chest. Alex buried his head into the crook John's neck, murmuring lightly. "I'm sorry. I just- it's hard to-" He sniffed, squeezing John's hand. "I'm just afraid, sometimes, that you're not going to come home."

John smoothed a hand down his back, and Alex shivered. "I'll always come home, Alexander. I promise." He pressed a kiss to the top of Alex's head. "I'm half certain you'd murder me yourself if I went and got shot again after all your wedding planning."

Alexander chuckled and pulled away to look into John's eyes. "Alright, John, I get it, I'm a regular bride-zilla." Pulling his fiance with him, the smaller man returned to the clutter of the kitchen table. Strewn across it were dozens of pages. The latest seating chart lay to the side, with the other eight revisions fanned out beneath it. Above it, a long list of items needed for the event, comprised mostly of crossed-out words and quick side notes- _"Washington says that throwing a bouquet of blown-glass flowers is "dangerous" and "unusual"; "Friedrich is willing to provide eighteen white Arabian stallions, but doesn't seem to understand that we don't **need** eighteen white Arabian stallions,"; "Kitty wants to know if she can bring her dog- do they make tuxedos for spaniels?"_ \- rested with its upper margin curling off the table's edge. At the far end of the table, Hercules's suit designs were sprawled across the wood below Lafayette's band recommendations. Alexander waved his hand above it all in a grand gesture, giving John that same pleading look from before. "I know that my freakout was a bit much, but come _on,_ babe! Look at all this!" he whined, collapsing heftily into his chair, rubbing at his tired eyes. "I don't know how I'm gonna pull this all off."

John gazed over his fiance, resting his hands on the back of the chair. "You know, Peggy and her girlfriend keep offering to help with the organization," he suggested, straightening a stack of guest lists. 

"John, baby, no offense," Alex began, biting the end of his pen. "But the last time I let Sally help me organize, she redecorated our entire apartment with nothing but Anthropologie products and that all that classical art she stole from Thomas's place." He pointed an accusing finger at the oversized portrait of Rose Ducreux that was hanging above a mantle of terracotta vases and pastel kitchenware. His eyes, however, happened to fall on the three tiny floral trinket dishes on the mantle. The simple, cutesy ones with the tiny woodland animals that kept their counters propped up as they proudly displayed the number _0_. John's is cracked a little- he'd dropped it after, quite literally, bumping into Alexander. Alex won't let him fix it- it's a pleasant reminder of how they met. The one dish not occupied by a counter sits in the middle. It's got a pair of small enamel owls sprouting from it (they're Alex's favorite animal- he's never told John, but he seemed to know anyway). Leaning against them is a photograph of the two young men on the steps in front of the Metropolitan. John is sitting down and holding a ring out to the gasping Alexander who stands above him. Behind them stand a scowling older woman and an excited saxophone player who'd immediately started playing _Marry You_ upon seeing the two. They're both smiling, as if nothing could go wrong.

With a jolt, Alexander suddenly realized that John was speaking to him, and tore his gaze away from the mantle. His soulmate beamed down at him and squeezed his shoulders. "One day you'll accept Sally Hemings' fashion advice into your life, Alexander," John said, ignoring the small, "Never!" coming from his fiance. John pulled Alex up and into a warm hug. He pulled back and smirked. "And who knows? Maybe you'll be less of a human disaster."

"I'm your human disaster, baby."

John laid a small but tender kiss on Alex's forehead. "Of course you are. I love you, Alexander." He heard Alexander sighed happily, and intertwined their hands.

"I love you too, John, I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I just had to end it on a happy note! I hope y'all've enjoyed the piece! I would also be so, so, so happy if you would leave me comments, especially with prompts/requests, since I'm sort of pen-blocked at the moment! Thanks so much!
> 
> <3


End file.
